Duke William and his retinue returned to Laval after a successful tour of his new province. Peace had descended on the state of Maine. Peace is only attained by war or the tacit threat of war* and both had been present in this instance.

The ruler of Maine and Normandy could now turn his attention to his next conquest. William fitz Osbern and William Trivett had their report of Maine’s assets and they were extensive since they reflected the best farming region in France. The Duke called his advisors, Roger de Montgomery, Robert de Mortain, Bishop Odo, and William fitz Osbern, Count Roald of Bonnetable and Count Reginald of Le Mans were added. William Trivett was employed as clerk secretary. They reviewed fitz Osbern’s report. Every count of Maine was listed with the size of his estates, the population of the estate and his assets recorded. No one in Maine could escape Duke William’s taxes.

“Count William, merci bien. You have done an excellent job as usual.”

“Thank you, My Lord. Squire William has made a accomplished assistant.”

Will’s ears pricked up at the bone of the compliment.

“Now with Maine secure and peace throughout the land, it is time to consider other problems. Robert, what is the news from England, for I haven’t forgotten King Edward’s promise of my ascension to the English throne on his death.”

He wanted the two new Maine representatives aware of his claim to the British island.

“My Lord, there has been a dearth of information after five weeks in the field. I will establish communication with our friends on the white cliffs.”

“And how will you do that?”

“I’ll send one of my agents to England.”

“Hmm, that might be enough, Robert. Mais non, I think first hand information would be better. An informant may be turned. We bought agents with money; so could others. Personal contact with our eyes and ears in England may further weld them to our cause. A little gold with promises of more may make the difference. Don’t you agree?”

“Yes, My Lord.”

“Now what plausible reason might you have to visit the Anglos. When my advisor visits England and talks to particular people he must have reason. I expect Harold Godwineson is as interested in our movements as we are in his.”

“My Lord,” Roald supplied, “why do we not send a trade delegation?”

“Yes. To Sell? Vintner, could you sell some wine to those barbaric Anglo-Saxons?”

“My Lord,” Will stammered.

“Squire, could you sell your father’s wine to the English?”

“My Lord, Trivett wine sells itself!”

“Ho, ho! Very good.”

“My Lord, William fitz Osbern became enthusiastic, “that is truly an inspired idea. It is a perfect concept of deception. England’s wine is for washing feet. They will increase our export trade obviously and provide the raison d’etre for our presence in Edward the Confessor’s land. A gift of wine to Edward and his Archbishop of Canterbury should guarantee a diplomatic trade mission.”

“Yesss! My Steward, and who would you send?”

“My Lord, Count Robert will be provided the perfect excuse and opportunity to speak directly with his agents. Robert also speaks the language. Squire William besides being a young

* Robert Frost

vintner is also an excellent clerk. William has worked with Count Robert before. We need a businessman to do the actual sales, a vintner of note and a military expert . Who do you suggest?”

Count Roger interceded, “A natural choice would be the squire’s father. That provides the reason for Squire William’s presence.”

“Squire?”

“My Lord, it is possible. I am certain Father would want to go. He is an old man though. He may suggest my oldest brother.”

“And now Gentlemen, the businessman?”

My Lord, fitz Osbern supplied. “I would suggest Rannulf. He is unknown in England and an excellent account man.”

An idea popped into Roger’s head. “Sir Rupert would be the best choice as a military observer. We may have to disguise him. He could grow an Anglo beard.” That was a joke to the clean-shaven Normans.

“Well Squire, who do we have now?”

“My Lord, the list is:

diplomat-Robert de Mortain

clerk recorder-William Trivett

vintner-Thomas Trivett Senior

trade and business-Rannulf

military advisor-Sir Rupert

“Anything further Councillors?’

“My Lord, Father Francis would be an excellent representative of the church.”

“Very good, Odo.”

“Francis will contact the Archbishop and inform him of your generosity.” Odo added.

“My generosity?”

“You will have to buy the wine gift for the church, Brother.

“Oh, yes, of course.”

“And the wine for King Edward.”

“For the King?”

“Yes, My Lord.”

“Well shouldn’t the vintner be happy to have a trade mission just for him?”

“My Lord,” sighed Odo, “do you want the information?”

“Yes.”

“Then open your purse a little.” Did they dare laugh at the brotherly interchange?

“Duke William, I will compose a diplomatic note for King Edward advising him of your gift and requesting permission for the trade delegation. I’ll dispatch a rider and with favorable winds in the channel he should be back within a fortnight.” The Steward informed the council.

“That will give us time to talk to the participants we have suggested, time to decide the information we want, and time to amass a boat load of wine for export. Roger, you and Rupert can set the guidelines for military observation. Robert, any notations made by young William and any reports you receive from your men must be secreted until you return to Normandy. Your job will entail all diplomatic maneuvers. I want to know what is going on in Edward’s court. Besides, we’ll add a little culture to those Anglos—some decent drink. What do they swill in their hovels? Squire William, Count Robert will converse with your father and introduce the moneyer Rannulf. Between the four of you, you will develop your trade mission. We do expect to make

money for our vintners and Normandy, and export duties for me.”

“Naturally!” someone whispered.

Thomas Trivett Senior was not about to be left behind when his wine set sail. He and Rannulf had set the prices to cover production and transportation costs as well as offering the Norman wineries a fine profit, after taxes. It was William of Normandy’s boat and shipping expense and expenses must be paid. This was a business deal.

Sir Rupert during the preparation, prepared his body. Normans were predominately clean shaven. Rupert grew his disguise—facial hair and a full head of hair. He was going to be the waggoner. He and William were the muscle in the trading exchange. Rupert enjoyed the idea of deception. He believed in knowing your enemy.

The route was tentatively settled by the “trading “mission. To placate the minions of the church and state the vessels were to land at Margate or Herne Bay at the mouth of the Thames. A wagon and team carried by the ship would be unloaded and set off for Canterbury with the gift for the Archbishop. Any barrels left could be sold along the way. Bishop Odo would have Father Frances blaze the trail and collect information beforehand. On the return of the wagon, the ships would continue up the Thames to London. Nothing would be traded until Edward the Confessor got his gift. Most of the wine would likely sell in the London area. They were to retain enough to travel to the channel coast through Harold Godwineson’s territory, essentially taking orders. In truth they were to observe the defenses of England and search out a site for a marine invasion.

One specially marked barrel was the depository for notes prepared by Will Trivett or agents of Robert. The cooper had built in a double bottom. The barrel was filled with wine except the four inches between the two bottoms. It would serve as their tasting barrel.

Only Robert de Mortain spoke English well. Sir Rupert and Rannulf had a smattering and Will and Thomas Sr. were oblivious to Anglo Saxon. Count Robert kept Will busy in preparation and spoke English in an attempt to teach Will. He was quite successful as Will proved an apt pupil. Robert knew Will had the brain, but he had wondered if he had the thirst for language.

Even Thomas recognized some words. They were ancient words he had heard his father and grandfather use, holdovers from the Germanic tribes that held coastal France before the invasion by the Viking Normans. Besides, the oak Thomas, had supplied the genetic material for the acorn, Will.

The agents were ready before the messenger returned from Canterbury and London. Within hours Count Robert had dispatched his own riders to the spy Sir Rupert, to the trader Rannulf, to the vintner Thomas Trivett and to the captains of the two vessels engaged by Duke William. This raised the dust of activity.

Will rode to the vineyard to assist in the loading. He hadn’t been there five minutes when Sir Rupert, now Rupert the bearded, trotted into the yard.

“Bonjour Monsieur, may I help you.”

“Non Squire. I may help you. Underneath this itching facial hair is your teacher now roust-about.”

“Pardonnez-moi Sir. I didn’t recognize you.”

“English William! And remember I’m your servant!”

“Come on Rupert. Let’s get these kegs loaded.” Will teased.

Thomas senior drove a team with a wagon up to the pile of oaken barrels he had accumulated from his vintner counterparts. After a few pleasantries, Father, two sons and

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“hired hand” began to roll the kegs up and inclined plank on to the wagon. Will expected Rupert to falter as he was not accustomed to farm work. He did not; he handled the barrels like children.

Will retrieved the second team and wagon and soon they were ready for the third load. One of the hired ships was to transport wine. The other was to carry a team of horses and the best wagon. After the loading a stream of twelve wagons made for the port of Le Havre. The idea was to dock at Margate, unload the horses and wagon, take a load of wine to Canterbury and sell the residue along the way. Then reload the horses and wagon for London and Westminster. The horse transport would unload in London and return to France. Wine would be sold to inn or public house. A wagon load would be taken seventy-five miles south to Brighton or Portsmouth and then east along the English Channel. The wine ship would renegotiate the Thames and travel west along the Channel coast to replenish the wagon at the meeting port. By the time they had returned east to Dover, the wine should have been sold and spies, tradesmen, horses and men would be loaded for the return trip to Normandy. It was a two day haul to Le Havre harbor and two days to load the cargo. These were staunch Viking ships with experienced Viking captains. The one selected for the team and wagon looked decidedly small. It was likely thirty feet long and eight feet in the beam. Two frightened horses and a high-wheeled Norman wagon seemed like quite a load to William. The other ship was nearly twice as long and twice as wide. It could handle the wagon loads of wine. Will hoped he boarded the wine vessel, but no, he got the thirty footer with two hobbled horses and a dismantled wagon.

The captains, Norsemen, were in no hurry as the wind blew out of the north. They nonchalantly loaded, securing all for the trip. Then, the wind changed to the southwest and their action became frantic. They drove the laborers fiercely so they might catch the breeze up the English Channel. The wagon box was removed, the wheels put inside, the tongue was unbolted and onto the floor boards it went. The horses were another problem. There seemed to be no way to load them. They were wide-eyed with fright from a rocking boat and a flapping sail. Finally, Thomas Senior blindfolded the team. He and Will whispered gently to them and walked them over the gunwales of the vessels. With some stumbling and frightened neighs, the horses were hobbled and secured over the keel. The wagon parts were lashed into place. The larger vessel too was prepared. The barrels were wedged in and cargo nets made them secure. The agents and their gear were stowed out of the way of the Norse sailors and Will ,all too frightened of the sea, was assigned to the soothing of the team. Will recognized the largest gelding. It was old “Trouble”. Will knew then things would be fine.

The mooring lines were cast off. The tide was going out. They soon cleared the harbor with the ebb. The sail was set and the favoring breeze carried them north and east. The Channel is nearly eighty miles in breadth, Le Havre to Brighton and they were soon out of sight of shore. The roll of the little craft was not lulling Will to sleep. “Sacre Bleu, I feel ill.” He was soon hanging over the gunwale and worrying he might do damage to his innards. The blindfolded horses lay down and Will soon followed them The rolling action was not as violent the closer to the waves you got. “Merci, mon Dieu!” With a freshening breeze they soon caught sight of Beachy Head near Eastbourne and somewhat in the lee of the land made their way past the white chalk cliffs Folkstone to Dover. Will was grateful. He actually got his stomach back down his throat in the calmer water. The two ship fleet covered the one hundred twenty miles to Margate in record time averaging ten miles per hour. In the lee of North Foreland they searched out an anchorage at Margate. They lay off shore over night waiting for daylight to search out a landing

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site for the horses and the dock site for the wine.

Early in the morning the onshore breeze took the horses to the beach. Semi-beached the thirty footer heeled over to starboard. The unhobbled blindfolded horses were led over the side and up onto the beach. The boat free of better than a ton and a half of horse flesh freed itself of the gravelly beach and the sailors made for the dock to unload the wagon and horse harness.

Before Will could get to the dock, the wagon was reassembled ready for the team and a load of wine barrels. Surprisingly, there was a priest waiting too.

“Thomas?”

“No Father, I am William Trivett.”

“Remarkable resemblance. You must be brothers.”

“Yes Father, and this is my worldly father Thomas Senior.”

“How do you do Sir? I was with your Thomas in Spain two years ago. I am Father Francis and Bishop Odo’s agent.”

Introductions were made all around. Sailors, Rupert and Will loaded the wagon with wine while the other four agents discussed the plan. Thomas Senior, Frances and Count Robert would make the ten mile trip to Canterbury. Thomas would handle his team and wagon and Father Francis who was becoming more accustom to horses with all his travel for Bishop Odo, and Robert de Mortain would ride chargers supplied by the church.

Rupert, Will and Rannulf were to do the job they had been assigned. Rannulf, the salesman would sell wine. Rupert and Will would mingle for information. Rannulf likely had the most difficult job. The English were not accustom to wine drinking. Ale, beer and mead were the commoner’s drinks. “Why should we pay a tax on French slop?” It was a good thing Thomas had gone to Canterbury! Rannulf tried the inns and public houses, but had more luck with the local power mongers. He appealed to their inordinate pride. “Raise yourself above the rabble. Wine is nectar to kings and princes of the church.” That usually sold a barrel, but the sales were few and far between.

Rupert and Will frequented the public houses nursing drinks like good undercover agents while pumping the town gossips for military information. What could they learn from the common man? News in Margate was days and weeks old. The Normans did hone their investigative skills, their questioning technique and their command of English. With a couple of rented horses, cobs really, they wandered from Sandwich to Margate to Herne Bay. Direct questioning seemed to lead nowhere. Even the lowest of the low would not reveal much to two Normans—foreigners—wogs.

Rupert: You English have it easy. Tres facile! In Normandy we report for duty every day to our overlord. If we are not needed he sends us home. Some weeks I travaille--work two days for moi—me.

Pub cohort: What a soft life you lead! We have to serve in the army. Some times we are away for weeks. The only respite we get is at harvest time. The lord or even the king must let us go for the harvest. They know they can’t exist without our crops.

William: But do you have to drill every day. I have to report five days a week for archery. Mon Dieu! I have calluses finger tip to wrist.

Pub Cohort: You think we are free of that. Look at this scar. Not in battle. My friend did that with his axe in practice!

Rupert: Your infantry uses axes!

Pub Cohort: Of course! It’s a man’s weapon! None of your little knives in an English army. When the English go to war, we go to kill.

William: Mon Dieu! I believe that! But our Duke, he has an army of two thousand men.

Pub Cohort: Two thousand? We have ten times that many. We are not just great fighters; we overwhelm you with numbers. Ten to one, We just walk over you.

Rupert: I can see that. But! We have the best leaders in Europe. We just conquered Maine. We destroyed their castles; we rolled up their flank. In one month we subdued the strongest province in all of France.

Pub Cohort: Harold Godwineson would eat your Norman generals. He has subdued all the lords of England. He is the power behind Edward the Confessor.

Rupert: All right, mon ami, we concede. Let’s have another beer. How are your crops this year? We’ve had bad weather in Normandy.

Pub Cohort: Bad Weather? You don’t know bad weather……

So it went. Not much was learned from any one informant but the cumulative record of information began to paint a picture of the English might. They also attended to the geography—beaches, cliffs, headlands, hills, plains, fortifications, and roads were all noted and recorded by Will.

Meanwhile, Father Frances left to his own devices in Canterbury worked on his English colleagues in the church. What did they know of the English court? How did it affect the church? What power did the Archbishop wield? Did Edward the Confessor run a taut ship? His answers in summation said, “Harold Godwineson held the reins of power.”

Count Robert de Mortain spoke with the Archbishop. Canterbury could be considered a staunch supporter of Edward. Things had been immensely better when Edward had Norman advisors. Harold had infiltrated the king’s council and forced the dismissal of the Normans. With a heavy hand Harold had driven the church into a strictly religious role. “You look after the souls :I’ll look after the bodies.” Edward busied himself with the building of Westminster and day to day rule rested with Harold and company.

Thomas and Rannulf made the rounds in their salesmen attire. Both turned a profit but it was not an easy sell. After a week of sales, delivery and spying, the horses and wagon were reloaded and the vessels made their way up the Thames. A fortunate on -shore breeze off the North Sea carried them well up the estuary. The crew eventually had to break out their long sweeps and row in the river proper.

In sight of Edward’s Westminster the larger vessel anchored mid-stream. The smaller vessel beached, heeled over, unloaded the horses and backed off .Both vessels docked. The wagon was unloaded and reassembled and the envoys set off for Edward’s court to observe the protocol. The horse vessel caught the ebbing tide and started down river. Their job was through. The larger craft would bring the horses home.

Thomas Senior, Rupert the laborer, and Will busied themselves with the unloading of Edward’s gift. Rannulf, Count Robert and Father Frances served as ambassadors. They were intercepted by Harold and his cronies and refused admittance to the court. Robert de Mortain was fuming. He carried the papers from Edward the Confessor himself and a letter from William of Normandy. Only Father Frances’ restraining hand kept him under control.

Before they left, Father Frances planted a few words in a brother’s ear. Back to the ship they went. The cursing swearing and spitting did not make the situation better, but it relieved some of Robert’s stress. Shortly after they returned ,a note was delivered by an acolyte of the church. The young priest searched out Father Frances. It was a note from the King himself apologizing for the treatment afforded by Harold and inviting them back to the palace. His aide would meet them and introduce them to the court.

The draymen were also ready and the entourage set off for Edward’s palace. They fell naturally to their jobs. Robert brought greetings from William of Normandy. He launched into trade negotiations with Edward and pumped him as much as you can pump a king. Father Frances fell in with the English priests and bishops and toured the construction site. He was much more successful with gems of information from the court. Rannulf made a sales pitch for their product, particularly to the lords assembled, and he was able to tuck away a number of orders. The other three unloaded the wine and plied their wiles on the king’s household. They were the least successful of all. Their attempts at conversation were rejected. Interrogation met with blank or sullen stares. William and Rupert shrugged their shoulders and worked silently.

All the laity were sent packing about the same time. Father Frances on affairs of the church remained with the English priests. Count Robert explained the reason for the stoicism of the palace folk. They all owed their position to Harold. Strictly speaking, they had the same vocation. They, too, were agents, spies on the king, owing allegiance to Harold.

“It appears,” decided Count Robert, “that we will be under close observation while we are here. As Duke William’s ambassador, I am invited to stay at the palace. Father Frances will be cared for by the church. You four had better make your own arrangements with an inn. Chose one that is secure or these Saxons will steal you blind. It may be wise to have the captain anchor in midstream over night with an alert watch. He can redock in the morning.”

“Early tomorrow, Count Robert, we should deliver our present orders. These Saxon Danish lords were eager to out do the other . Many of them have ordered one barrel. I collected some coin so they will be certain to send their servant to direct delivery of the product. We may be more fortunate interrogating the butlers or the pages.”

“Very good, Rannulf. The one thing Harold doesn’t know is that he has employed a double agent. I own one of the people he pays to watch Edward.”

“Rannulf and I will look for an inn, Count Robert. I think Thomas Senior could do with a rest.”

“What’s that? Rupert, I could best you in any contest! Now!”

“No doubt, Young Thomas. Look after him William.”

Robert set off for the palace, Rannulf and Rupert searched out an inn and Thomas and Will relaxed aboard the merchant wine vessel. Shortly, the older Trivett dropped off to sleep in the brilliant sunshine as he leaned against a barrel of his product.

Rannulf and Rupert returned in a couple of hours with an inn chosen and three barrels of wine sold. The three barrels were transferred ship to wagon. The sailors prepared to stand off shore, and the wine peddlers set off for the inn. They made their deliveries and Rannulf handled the business, William handled the interrogation and Thomas handled the horses. Rupert, hiding behind his beard, searched the faces of the hangers-on or passers-by . Surely, they were followed. He selected some possibilities from the street who seemed too interested in a wine delivery. As they approached the second pub, one of his possibilities closed with them from the opposite direction. “Tricky devil!” whispered Rupert.

“Pardonnez?” Will awakened.

“Rien, nothing, Will.” And then as if in the motion of lying back to sleep added sotto voice. “Faites attention a l’homme qui porte le chapeau en cuir.”

“The man in the leather hat??”……and Will took particular notice after a poke in the ribs. They went through the same procedure at Inn two and made for their final resting place for the day. The wine was unloaded and the horses stabled. The inn guaranteed their safety. As they

It did seem natural. Obviously Rannulf was the businessman and Thomas and Will had to be related. The bearded Rupert would not fit into one of the round holes. He engaged the counterspy in conversation. Neither of the participants would release data it seemed. Will listened

carefully and heard some of he biggest lies smoothly inserted into a meaningless drivel. “Leather hat”, the counter spy could hardly sit still. Harold would pay well for this information. “William of Normandy had overextended himself in Maine—too much money, too many men lost, too many bribes to the church.” It was released over a period of two hours. “Leather hat” didn’t try pumping Rupert; it wasn’t needed. He was accumulating a mass of disinformation. He was anxious to report his findings. He hustled away. Rupert returned to the Norman compatriots.

Will asked immediately, “Are you going to kill him?”

“Mais non, he’ll be useful if I keep him at a distance. I’ll fill him full of merde de beouf and confuse the Saxons no end. Then I’ll kill him.”

The following day was physical. After an uneventful night and a filling,if tasteless, breakfast, they were committed to the delivery of wine to Rannulf’s customers. Wine was a difficult sale to public houses. Their customers were not attuned to wine. Like the customers, information or facts were few and far between. On two occasions their contacts mentioned Edward’s sickness, his lack of physical or social power, and Harold’s eventual ascension to the throne. If the lower classes believed it, it was likely true.

Dutifully the wine wagon made the rounds of the inns in the little towns around London, Greenwich, Leisham, Woolwich, Hackney, Islington, Camden and Hammersmith . It was easier to sell to the church or the upper class land owners, but sales would not have covered expenses.

They made geographic notes. London did not afford much natural defense. Although the Thames was a divisive feature, it offered a road from the sea. The old Roman wall had been expropriated for building materials. The buildings were susceptible to fire. They were largely of wood, post and beam construction, with thatch as a popular roofing material. One modern match would set off an inferno to burn for blocks.

Demographically, the population was growing. The city was encompassing the small towns. The king’s forces were few. Any espionage concerning the military reflected a pyramid with Harold not Edward at the apex. Harold who was in control of the south directly and the Northumbria and York through his brothers had a tax base large enough to maintain a permanent force. It seemed largely based in London, possibly for defense of the throne and the capital, but more likely as a threat to King Edward or his supporters. The Normans noted numbers, barracks forts, and headquarters.

Meanwhile, Father Francis worked through the church brotherhood. Since pious King Edward was politically entrapped, he spent more time and energy with the church. Church leaders were certainly not enthralled with Harold usurping power of a very Christian king. “Could Bishop Odo be of any assistance to the English church and English brethren?” Frances stressed Odo’s close relationship with the Pope. As the Pope’s advocate Odo could bring Church

pressure to bear on the barbaric Godwinesons, the Danish interlopers in an Anglo Saxon community. Frances reached as high as he could in the hierarchy, sowing seeds of dissent for Harold’s oligarchy and promoting the law, stability and civil order of Normandy. A satisfied Church led a satisfied populace and the church was not satisfied with Harold.

Robert de Mortain as an official ambassador of Duke William had some advantages around Edward’s court. He had an especial audience with King Edward. All the attendants were dismissed and their talk touched on many matters: trade, economics, military matters, internal crises, external threats, treaties, alliances and the Church. The topics the old king continually avoided were Harold’s power and his succession. Robert came to the conclusion that it was an embarrassment to King Edward. The occasional glance over his shoulder and Edward’s whispered voice indicated Edward’s fear of eavesdroppers. More than once Robert noticed movement in the arras behind the king that were not supported by any movement of air.

Robert made contact with his court agents. This was accomplished in public with observers. Besides he spoke to all the court members including Harold, but he realized he was under constant observation. The agents with the double life recognized the threat of exposure and their subsequent death. They continued to use their usual channels of information, but a few bonuses were passed in the wine transactions by Rannulf.

After ten days of sales the wine merchants exhausted their possibilities. According to their agenda and Edward’s trade provisions they could travel south to the coast. They would load the wagon with wine in London and meet the ship on the south coast for replenishing supplies. They had been hinting of their departure for two days and requested their bill for the next morning. Strangely, “Leather hat” appeared on the evening of their proposed exodus. He drew Rupert aside with an offer of ale. The other three Normans were not invited. Rupert leaned over William in the pretext of picking up his jerkin and whispered, “Faites attention!” [keep watch] and William did.

Rupert drew up a chair to “Leather hat’s” table. Beer was quickly produced. Will continued with his evening meal, but peripherally watched the opposing spies. More beer came. It appeared Rupert was not holding his beer well. His voice got louder and occasionally slurred. “Leather hat” seemed more intent. He pressed Rupert harder for data. Rupert reiterated all the lies from their previous session. After the fourth pint the two stood to make their way to the privy. Rupert caught William’s eye. Rupert was not drunk. Will was instructed to follow them. “Leather hat” preceded Rupert into the dark of the lane. Rupert , before leaving the room closed his eyes tightly. His irises accommodated for the dark and under his lids the lens opening expanded. When he entered the dark lane his sight was already adapted to the dark. They turned left. After three paces the door slid open enough to allow a skinny youth to follow the retreating pair of footsteps. Will slipped the Toledo throwing knife from its scabbard. A dark shape stepped from a niche in the wall between the knight and Will. The arm of the shape was raised over head. Will waited no longer. His youthful arm was faster. The knife whistled through the air. The blow to be delivered by the shape never fell. The shape collapsed in an untidy pile behind Rupert. Will was on it in a second retrieving his blade. “Leather hat” had spun and struck a descending blow with his dagger hard into the chest of Rupert. As luck would have it the point struck a rib in Rupert’s thorax. Already Rupert’s knife was entering the abdominal cavity of Harold’s spy and reaching up for the heart or arteries. A third assailant entered the fray to be met by Will’s stiffened leg and foot. The assailant expelled a great “Woof” of air and the wounded Rupert strangled him with his muscular forearm. He hadn’t much air after the kick and he soon gave up the ghost. Quiet descended.

“Merci bien, William. Drag these trolls to the barn. We’ll have to get rid of them.”

“Sir Rupert, we could put them in the empty barrels and ship them tomorrow when we unload the wine.”

“Good idea. The captain can drop them in the North Sea. We’ll remove all clothing and burn it at our first campfire.”

The former assailants were slung over Norman shoulders and deposited behind a jittery team of horses. They smelled the blood and death. Rupert and Will quickly knocked the top off the barrels and inserted the naked bodies. The tops were tapped back in place and the barrels rolled onto the wagon box. The clothing was knifed to shreds and secreted under the box. There was no sense having the bodies recognized. It could only lead to charges. The clothing clues were better destroyed. There was a problem about the blood in the alley and the blood on Rupert’s chest. A few shovelfuls of inn yard dirt were quickly spread in the lane hopefully over the residue of the blood. A few passes of feet would make it unrecognizable. Rupert removed his shirt and added it to the clothing for disposal. He pulled on his vest and decided to play the part of the incapacitated drunk. The two Normans came bursting through the front door, Will supporting Rupert. Will called Thomas for assistance and between them they got Rupert who overacted fiercely, to the room and bed. Now Will and Thomas could get a look at Rupert’s wound. They bathed it and applied the cure-all salve that Thomas Junior had brought home from Toledo.

They posted a watch. It seemed likely that the innkeeper had been a part of the counter espionage group, but the night passed without further incident. The trade mission arose early and attacked the gruel, eggs and pork provided by the inn mistress. Rannulf toted up the bill and paid for their food, stabling and lodging. Thomas and William saw to the team and harnessed them to the wagon. Old Trouble was a little skittish because of the smell of death, but none of the humans detected a thing. They made their way to the ship. The captain and crew accepted the wagon’s load with instructions as to their disposal and off loaded a dozen barrels for the trip south.

Father Frances was to sail with the vessel and was expected before the ten o’clock ebb tide. Robert de Mortain had purchased a horse and riding gear and expected to catch them up on the road south.

The London guard stopped them. Harold knew his assassins had come to harm, but he had no proof. The guards found no trace of blood nor the shredded clothing. There was nothing the guard could do but release the “honest” traders.

It was sixty miles due south to Brighton and the Channel coast. They were interested in Portsmouth harbor which was seventy-five miles south and west. Should they be so obvious as to head for the harbor that has protected English fleets for centuries, or allow Robert to sneak away and observe himself? The second idea seemed the better plan and three days would put them in Brighton for replenished stores and four days would bring them to Dover and the empty wine ship loading horses and wagon.

The first night they only reached Croydon. Obviously, they were being followed, but the group made no effort to catch up to the Normans and the Normans made no effort to avoid them. At noon they ate on the road and started their fire with the remnants of clothing. That night they stayed with an innkeeper who bought some wine and they divided the watch over night. They gave up actively pursuing information because of Harold’s assigned shadows.

Day two they forged ahead to Crawley, their shadows intact. They were just fifteen miles out of Brighton. Count Robert rode up behind Harold’s men and observers. He spied on the spies watching the spies. He decided to make for Portsmouth. It was a forty mile ride. He could likely make it by morning and he left the Saxon road.

King’s Man

Day three brought them closer to the coast. The closer they came the easier it was to sell wine. Thomas Senior said it wasn’t above Norman fishermen to smuggle a few barrels into the south coast or even a few English captains to bring back a few barrels of wine rather than fish. The salesmen had an empty wagon before they reached Brighton. Hopefully, the Viking captain and the wine ship had encountered fair winds. They were standing off shore. The sandy beaches Bognor Regis to Brighton prevented the ship from landing and after contact they slid east toward Telscombe Cliffs. They unloaded more wine from the ship. Rannulf and Thomas Senior were excited for the first time. The barrels were rolling out and the coins were rolling in. Will and Rupert were busy with deliveries, but all four were noting the geography: sandy beaches, cliffs, rolling plain, hills, defensive structures, forest, observation posts, tidal wash. Will was kept busy recording their observations.

Robert de Mortain had ridden furiously the previous night skirting Chichester and Havant. ‘Hell’s Bells’ he thought, ‘ If the English have a fleet, they could be hidden in any of the natural harbors Chichester to Portsmouth.’ He skirted Chichester harbor—fishing boats as far as he could see. Around Langstone harbor he went more or less directly to Portsmouth. He took a room in an inn and slept like the dead for six hours. He ate unobtrusively and in the failing light of the second day he rode the shore of the harbor. Finally, he discovered some warships, three in all. They were no bigger than the horse and wagon ship they had used, thirty to forty feet in length. While he contemplated the vessels, An English Fleet!!, he was so engrossed that he failed to notice the approaching sailor.

“Hey, What are you doing there?’

Robert in surprise nearly jerked himself out of the saddle. He had to catch the mane to prevent a nasty little fall. The sailor began to laugh at an obvious toff. Robert recovered before the sailor, leapt his horse forward, and rode the man down. Robert jumped from his charger and was on the injured man—injured but not greatly. The guard had his knife in his left and a belaying pin in his right hand. He cracked Robert across the wrist and Robert’s dagger flew into the long reedy swale. The guard now had the upper hand. He was confident he could take Robert alive, and if not alive, dead. He approached cautiously, but quietly which was fortunate. Robert backed away as the sky darkened. The guard made a lunge only to find Robert had made the fleche and was now behind his assailant. Mortain caught the guard under the knife arm and with a stranglehold began to choke his life away. The belaying pin went first as the man tore at Mortain’s arm. The other hand was flailing --and stabbing at the figure behind him. Robert was hard pressed to avoid the knife and maintain his throttling grip. In a violent effort the guard stabbed Mortain in the thigh. Robert maintained the pressure and the life before him began to ebb. The figure slumped. Robert took the knife from the senseless hand and opened the man’s carotid. Now what to do with him? He loaded the body on his horse and led him away under the cover of night fall. He came upon an inn with an extensive manure heap. What a fitting place! He would bury the sailor in the manure. The natural decomposition of the manure would aid in destroying the body. ‘What was the fool doing guarding three tiny little ships?’

Two days later Robert de Mortain rode into Brighton Town from the east. He had ridden at night risking his horse and his own neck on the primitive roads and footpaths. He circled Brighton in case they were watching for his arrival and so he appeared to be coming from Dover. Judging by his observations the English had no fleet. It was no wonder they were so susceptible to attacks by the Vikings and Danes. They had a few ships, but nothing to repel an invasionary force. These boats had looked better for fishing and he only counted three. For three ships he had taken a painful wound in the thigh.

With the return of Robert, they began their trek east along the cliff shore to Eastbourne. The prevailing westerlies crashed against the English island attempting to wash it away. Only its connection to bed rock held it at anchor. The wine continued to sell with a profit. Just out of Eastbourne the cliffs gave way. Here was a beach suitable for a marine landing. Pevensey Bay to Hastings afforded a sandy gravelly beach. There was a problem on the western end as a large marsh prevented access to the land . No one wants to fight in a bog hole. Five miles beyond Pevensey the ground began to rise. Anywhere closer to Hastings had the identical beach, dry land behind , and a safe route to the interior. Selected hills behind the shore offered excellent defensive sites. Breaking off the beach and occupying these natural defensive positions would be the thrust of a Norman invasion offensive. The sea marshes would be a natural obstacle to rolling up the Norman flank.

By Hastings the wine was nearly gone. Count Robert decided it was time to go home. Harold’s shadows were getting closer. There were some bodies to discover. There was some threat of attack. They decided to call in their ship and load. Thomas saw a major problem loading the horses with the large boat. They would have to build ramps for so large a ship with high gunwales.

“Let’s load the wagon and sell the horses to the English,” suggested Rannulf.

“I don’t think we have a choice,” said Robert. “Shop them around at the inn. Don’t stand on price. Harold may decide to take us at any time.”

Thomas, the horse trader, took over at their last inn. “I’ve got a team of the finest horses in France. They have just pulled my wagon over your treacherous roads all the way from London. They are in their prime as you can see—well fed, well muscled and well shod. I will sell them. Give me your best price.”

“I’ll give you fifteen silver pieces.”

“What! Fifteen pieces! What! My God! The Jews offered thirty pieces for one man! Judas got more money than that!”

“All right. I’ll give you eighteen if you throw in the wagon.”

“What are you? An English thief of an English farmer?”

William pulled his father’s sleeve. “Refuse them Father. I have an idea. We’ll pull the back wheels of the wagon and run the team up the sloped wagon box.”

Thomas stroked his chin. “Twenty pieces and best team in the country is yours with a staunch Norman wagon that can stand up to your pasture field roads.”

The farmer scratched his head. He shuffled one foot and then the other. “Done!”

Twenty pieces were counted into Thomas’ hand from a leather sack. Thomas quickly drew his purse from under his shift and the coins disappeared. He hated to lose old Trouble. Will thought Thomas would rather have lost him.

The two Trivetts hurried back to the ship. The captain was anxious to make use of the westerly wind. The tide was high which freed the vessel from the gravel bottom. Not one man waved good-bye.

The gray threatening skies broke within the hour and puffy cumulus clouds sailed a brilliant blue sky. The agents found a sunny site and travelling with the waves and therefore saved from the violence of the sea, they were soon lulled to sleep. William never awakened until they sighted the Norman shoreline. They slipped south and soon rounded the cape to Le Havre. Count Robert arranged transportation for them all. They recovered their notes from the barrel cache and set off without delay on the count’s horses for the castle of Rouen. Will was obliged to put some order into their gleanings from England. Sir Rupert , Count Robert and Will spent

some hours at their only stopover trying to arrange the data chronologically. They thought it better to tell the story day by day annoting military , geography, demography and court features. Rouen castle came all too quickly and they were invited to an audience with Duke William and the council.

“Gentlemen, we will come to order.” And the hubbub ceased and the Duke continued, “Well old Vintner, what fortune did you have with the Saxons?”

“My Lord, every barrel of wine sold. It was a difficult job because of their predilection to beer. My salesman supreme, Rannulf, worked over time to make the trade mission a success. I think we have made a favorable profit, but Rannulf will have the figures.”

“Very good. Do you have anything to add to our other enterprise?”

“No, My Lord, my observations were all given to the recording agent and will be evident later.”

“Merci bien, Thomas. You may be off to your beautiful wife.”

“Merci and au revoir.” and Thomas bowed his way out.

“Rannulf, how do we stand?”

“My Lord, our trip was not as successful as Thomas thought. We did actually make profit on the wine, but it did not pay for the shipping you arranged or the gifts you made to the Archbishop and King Edward.” William, the cheap, started to splutter but Rannulf went on. “Of course, you expected costs for our expedition.”

William had no choice, “Yes, of course, Rannulf.”

“I will have an accounting for your steward, My Lord.”

“Merci Rannulf. Do you have anything to add to the observations?”

“My Lord, any observations were left with our recorder.”

“You may go, Monsieur.”

“Count Robert?”

“My Lord, Sir Rupert and I have only had one night to analyze our findings. Squire William is preparing the written report.”

“Give us a summary.”

“Yes, My Lord. Harold has control of the court and influence over the country. He is the power behind the throne and considered Edward’s successor even by the masses.

Secondly, Harold maintains a large personal army and controls whatever forces are held by Edward. One source suggested he has twenty thousand men on call except at harvest. Saxons are always freed from service at harvest. Harold is considered an adept general. He has never lost a battle and therefore never lost a war. He employs a group of agents reporting on internal and external affairs. I have my agents searching for possible traitors to your cause here in Normandy.

The Saxons still favor the axe for the infantry and the long bow is still in vogue. Seldom are horses used in battle , but they feel secure and capable without them.

Father Frances will have a more complex report on the Church, but I gather from the Archbishop that pious generous Edward the Confessor is the darling of the Church. Meddling and usurping of power by Harold has turned the Church against him.”

“An avenue, no doubt.”

“Yes, My Lord. London is a marvel of inadequacy. It is practically defenseless. The Thames divides it and the bridges, such as they are, are significant for invasion. The walls are down. The Thames is a road from the sea. The city is a tinder box. However, you have been there and know these things yourself.

I personally checked the southern harbors. At Portsmouth I counted only three men-at-war. Three! And took this damnedable thigh wound for my trouble. It was so hard to believe I

checked every harbor Portsmouth to Hastings. The English have no navy on the south coast Possibly they are engaged in repelling the plundering Danes in the north. The waterways are open.

We followed the shore Brighton to Hastings. Our choice for a marine landing is Hastings. It has a sandy shore suitable for beaching small craft. On the west is a salty marsh that protects the left flank. Behind are rolling hills for defensive positions. We may have to fight our way off the beaches, but beyond is open country-side.”

“Why not Brighton?”

“It is somewhat further My Lord and lacks the protection afforded by Pevensey Bay.”

“Well done, Robert, My Brother. Squire William, I would like your report…… Yesterday!’

“Yes My Lord.

“Sir Rupert, do your have anything to add?”

“My Lord, Count Robert has stated everything admirably.”

“Merci, Gentlemen. Robert see Squire Thomas about some of his heal-all salve.”

“Yes, My Lord.”